Mixed Signals
by WhyMustIWrite
Summary: Iruka & Anko's first date: in which everything that can go wrong, does.
1. Be Yourself? Like That's Gonna Work!

This story is a gift for my dear friend **Taryn Streambattle**.  
Not only is she a wonderful person, Taryn is one of my favorite writers. I highly recommend her work.

Upon taking up the pen for her gift, I ventured into a genre that heretofore I've left mainly unexplored: romance.  
Don't worry, I latched onto the familiar security-blanket of humor while taking this journey.

* * *

"Take it easy there; I didn't ask for an assassination!" Iruka reprimanded, gripping the other's shoulder before he could cause more damage.

The younger nin paused, mid-stab, and gave the sensei a questioning look. "Well then, how am I _supposed_ to do this?"

"Here, I'll show you."

Reaching over to wrap his hand over Konohamaru's, the sensei guided the blade over the green pepper, slicing it into strips. "A kitchen knife is handled differently from a kunai. It's not used for stabbing. Normally." Iruka qualified since, in a pinch, a kitchen knife was as good an improvised weapon as any.

"Well what do you expect? I'm a _ninja_, not a cook!" Konohamaru huffed defensively.

Iruka chuckled. "It wouldn't hurt you to be both."

He tipped the cutting board and scraped the vegetables into the pan, where pieces of beef were already sizzling. Iruka preferred taking his students out for Ichiraku Ramen rather than cooking. But a man can't live on ramen alone or, as Kakashi sardonically told him one day- "If you insist on getting half the kids in this village addicted to something, why not try vegetables?"

Konohamaru set the table while Iruka finished up the stir fry. Finally the food was ready and the genin took a bite. "Hmm. It's not as rubbery as the last time, Iruka sensei. You're getting better at this."

The chunin snorted. "Thanks…I think…"

The conversation turned to the boy's training and his new team while they ate. "We're getting really strong, Iruka-sensei," he boasted happily, "Too strong for those _D-rank_ missions you keep giving us."

"Are you now?"

"We _are_!" Konohamaru insisted, growing louder as he exclaimed, "Tomorrow, when we go to the Mission Room, you better give us a _real_ mission! We're ready!"

Iruka smiled at the boy. "I'm sorry, Konohamaru, but tomorrow I won't be giving you any missions. It's my day off."

"No way," the genin protested skeptically, "You don't take days off. And tomorrow's _Saturday_. What are you going to do if you're not teaching or in the Mission Room?"

"This might come as a shock to you, but I have things to do besides work."

"Like what?" Konohamaru pressed.

"I'll use the morning for fitness and chakra training," Iruka recounted, "Some laundry and chores later on. Unwind with a bit of reading after that. And then I'm spending the evening with a friend."

Konohamaru had listened to his intended plans with an unimpressed face, until he heard the word 'friend.' "Which one? Kakashi-sensei?"

"No. He's away on a mission."

"Kotetsu and Izumo?"

"Gate guarding duty."

"Genma? Or Raidou?"

"Still no."

"Then who? …It's not a _gi-irl, _is it?" Konohamaru teased. His sensei's face flushed slightly and the boy's jaw dropped. "It _is_ a girl!"

"A woman, actually. Her name is Anko."

"You're going out on a _date_!"

"You don't have to sound so horrified."

"But…but you _never…_I mean…I never see you…"

"Konohamaru. That's enough," the sensei interrupted sternly, though he couldn't hide traces of amusement at the boy's confounded expression. "We were supposed to be talking about your training, not my social life."

"Yeah, but this is a big deal," the preteen insisted. "You actually got a girl to go out with you! Do you know what you're going to wear tomorrow?"

Iruka was about to dismiss the question and get the conversation back on track, when he hesitated. "My uniform. Why?"

"You can't just wear you're uniform," Konohamaru exclaimed.

"It's what I always wear," Iruka pointed out. "I don't see why I need to change that just for a date."

"Well it's no wonder you can't get a girlfriend." The genin snorted. "Where's your sense of style?"

"Ah, is _that_ why you wear a twelve foot scarf?" He teased, reaching across the table to ruffle Konohamuru's hair. "So the girls can fawn over your fashion sense?"

Despite Iruka's outward dismissal, the boy's words _did_ make him wonder. It wasn't too implausible to think that Anko, with her own flair in style, might find him boring in his standard issue uniform.

"Funny, sensei." Konohamaru crossed his arms. "You don't get how this works at all. When's the last time you even went on a date?"

The teacher frowned at the boy.

"Thought so."

Jumping to his feet, Konohamaru grabbed his sensei's arm. "You'll need help if you're going to snag a second date. Let's check out your closet."

* * *

Crisp, navy blue uniforms clung on wire hangers. Older, more worn versions were stacked on the closet shelf. A hamper on the floor of the closet brimmed with the standard-issue gear. The only break in the line of navy blue was a set of funeral blacks, also standard-issue.

Konohamaru gawked incredulously. "You mean you _really_ wear this all the time?"

"I believe I already told you that."

"But you don't have _anything _else?" he persisted. "Anything at all?"

The sensei sighed and rubbed his scar, considering whether to answer honestly. "I do have another closet," Iruka reluctantly admitted, "Where I keep clothes for undercover work. I haven't really worn them in years, but there is civilian gear in there."

The genin instantly brightened, snapping around and accidentally overturning the laundry basket. "Perfect! Then what are we waiting for?"

The teacher rolled his eyes, amused at the boy's honest enthusiasm to help, and led the way to his storeroom. Konohamaru's eyes widened as the door opened to reveal an enormous walk-in closet, filled with all manner of attire. Farmer's garb hung beside elaborate kimonos, sharp business suits, beggar's rags, and everything in between. "Now we're talking!"

Iruka sighed, leaning casually against the door frame while Konohamaru pawed through his collection. "I don't know if I like the idea of wearing something that's, basically, a disguise," he confessed. "It's like I'm trying to be someone I'm not. I just want her to like me for who I am."

"Like _that's_ gonna work," Konohamaru muttered distractedly before grabbing up a hanger. "Aha! This is perfect."

"Absolutely not."

"But-"

"No." Iruka emphatically swiped his hand through the air, recognizing the old costume. "Just… no."

"Oh, come on! You'll look really cool." The boy wheedled, holding out an outfit that consisted mainly of leather and mesh, embellished by multiple belts. Iruka stared at him, one brow slightly arched in an expression that clearly broadcasted his disapproval.

"Why is it even in your closet if you wouldn't wear it?" At the sensei's protracted silence, Konohamaru decided to up the ante. "I _dare _you to wear it! I...I _double-dog dare_ you!"

"'Double-dog dare?'" Iruka chuckled, shaking his head. "What am I, twelve?"

Konohamaru pouted, replacing the hanger with a disappointed grumble of "Boring."


	2. That Could've Gone Better

Iruka wiped the palm of his sweaty hand against the fabric of his neatly pressed khaki trousers. He and Konohamaru had compromised; he wasn't wearing his shinobi uniform, but at least he still looked decent. The slacks were easy to choose, but they'd haggled considerably over the top. The genin had firmly steered him clear of all his turtlenecks.

Feeling unprotected in the flimsy silk material with his throat so exposed, the shinobi's fingers reached up to button the collar of his burgundy dress shirt. He stopped himself, remembering that he'd promised the boy to leave it be.

"_No, don't close it all the way!" Konohamru had huffed, undoing the top two buttons_. _"Just leave it like that. Trust me."_

_"But if I don't button it, how will I get this tie on properly?" _

_Konohamaru grabbed the tie in question and tossed it behind his back._

_"Hey, that's part of the outfit," Iruka protested._

_"Not anymore." _

Iruka settled for making sure the collar was straight before approaching the kunoichi's home. Before he could knock, Anko's door abruptly swung open and he was forced to jump backward to avoid a concussion. Despite having narrowly avoided being brained on her door, the chunin offered his date a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Anko."

"What are you _wearing_?" the kunoichi asked bluntly, pursing her lips as she scrutinized his new attire. She, of course, was dressed in her usual orange skirt, fitted woven-armor bodysuit, and tan overcoat.

Suddenly self-conscious, a blush rose over Iruka's features, "Ah, I…just thought a change would be nice." No _way_ was he going to admit he got his dating advice from a twelve-year-old.

Her silence made him even more nervous. Kami, what was he thinking_?_ "Here, these are for you." He hastily extended the bouquet of flowers in a bid to divert attention.

Her amber eyes landed on the offering, but she made no move to accept it. "What's that?"

"They're…daisies," Iruka replied nervously. Roses, he thought, might be too forward for a first date. When Ino suggested daises, which held the message of loyal love and faith, they seemed to fit perfectly.

"I know that," Anko clarified, a bit exasperated. "I mean- what do you expect me to _do _with them?"

It honestly never occurred to him to wonder what women did with flowers.

He resisted the urge to rub his scar in embarrassment. "Well, you're supposed to put them in a vase…to… look at…" He explained, feeling more foolish by the second.

"Okaaay," she responded dubiously, finally taking the flowers from his hand and disappearing into her home.

That could've gone better.

Thus left alone on her porch, Iruka entertained the notion of escaping now while he had the chance.

"_Hey Iruka_!" Anko's voice boomed out from inside the house, "What if I don't have a vase. Can I use a saké bottle?"

He smiled and quashed any ideas of fleeing. Sure, it was an awkward opening, but he couldn't very well recoil from some of the characteristics he'd always admired in Anko- her refreshing frankness, lack of pretense, and devil-may-care attitude.

"Sure," Iruka called back, before clarifying, "It can't have saké in it, though. You have to fill it with water."

"Oh…. Well, what about a pitcher?"

"That'll do."

Minutes passed and the chunin's thoughts drifted from the storing of the daisies to their intended meaning.

Loyal love. Iruka had harbored feelings for Anko for years- since his Academy days, really. Over time, as they'd both matured and experienced personal tragedies, his silly schoolboy crush developed into deep affection. She was a vibrant and resilient person, refusing to be dulled by her circumstances. Not to mention she was also quite attractive.

Yet Anko could be abrasive, causing many to keep their distance. Having suffered betrayal at the hands of her own sensei, she now kept others away. That's where the daisies' second meaning came in- faith. Iruka hoped that in time Anko would have faith enough to trust him and let him in.

After what felt like ages, the kunoichi finally emerged from her home.

"Took care of the flowers?"

Anko grinned and scratched that back of her neck sheepishly. "Yeah… about that. I couldn't find a pitcher, so I just tossed them in the trash can. You don't mind, do you?"

* * *

Kakashi nodded to the gate guards as he entered the village. Izumo rose from his seat at the sight of the man's blood-drenched uniform, but the Copy Nin waved him back down. "Not mine," he assured, before taking to the rooftops.

Caked in a foul mix of grime and blood, Kakashi had every intention of going straight home for a shower. But then a lone figure atop an apartment complex caught his attention. Insomnia was commonplace in a ninja village, so spotting Umino Iruka on a rooftop at one in morning wouldn't normally warrant a second glance. This, however, wasn't a normal sighting.

Illuminated by the light of a full moon, the sensei's posture radiated exhaustion and defeat. Oddly, he was dressed in upscale civilian clothes. Torn and disheveled upscale civilian clothes, Kakashi mentally amended.

The sheer incongruity of the scene compelled the jounin to investigate. Too mission-weary to bother with subtlety, Kakashi dropped down behind the brooding chunin. "What are you doing out here?"

Iruka picked at a ragged tear in the seam of his sleeve, not even lifting his head to face his visitor. "Thinking."

"About?"

"Whether or not I should jump," came the flat reply.

Kakashi tensed as he tried to discern if the remark was made in jest. The thought that Iruka may be contemplating suicide was enough to startle the fatigue from his mind.

"Don't worry, I'm only joking," Iruka clarified, sensing his comrade's alarm. A half-hearted smile twisted his features, "Besides, we're not that far up. The worst I'd do is twist my ankle."

Ah, so the chunin was in one of his rare, depressed moods. "Why so cynical, sensei?"

"Nothing. It's just that…" the explanation died in his throat as he finally turned and noticed Kakashi's appearance. "What happened to _you_?"

"I'm uninjured," Kakashi shrugged. "So you were saying...?"

"Forget it; it's nothing to be concerned about," Iruka dismissed. "Just a date night gone awry. You should get cleaned up and rest."

"_You_ went on a _date_?"

Kakashi's reaction was so reminiscent of Konohamaru's that the chunin couldn't help but roll his eyes in amusement. "Yeah well, it probably won't happen again, so don't worry about it. Have a good night Kakashi."

The jounin failed to move from his spot. His reluctantance to leave, the restless look in his eye, and the clothes saturated in foreign blood, all made the chunin consider that Kakashi probably shouldn't be left alone with his demons tonight. He needed a distraction.

"Why don't you come inside?" Iruka offered. "You can wash up and borrow a uniform, then I'll tell you all about my date night from hell, ne?"

* * *

Seated on the chunin's sofa, freshly showered and dressed in a crisp, clean uniform, Kakashi nursed a cup of hot tea while listening to the sensei's tale. Iruka had also changed out of his ragged clothes, and was back in his familiar uniform.

"I still can't believe you bought her flowers," the jounin marveled, his mission-fogged mind clearing while discussing something so ordinary, so human, as an awkward first date. "I mean…_really_? Anko and flowers?"

"Do you want to hear the story or not?" Iruka snapped, though his words lacked any real heat. "I can do without the commentary, thank you."

"Okay, okay," Kakashi conceded. "So she chucked the flowers in the trash. What happens next?"

"I took her out for dinner-"

"Not Ichiraku's I hope," the jounin interrupted.

"Give me _some _credit! I do know the difference between a nice dinner date and a meal with my students," Iruka balked. "I got reservations at a seafood place. Anyway, we were talking, waiting for the food, and…"

* * *

"You know, I can't believe you actually had the nerve to ask me out," Anko commented, "You must be either brave or stupid, if the rumors didn't scare you away."

Iruka smiled ruefully at that. If he were brave, he would have asked her out years ago. Instead, it took the Sound invasion and the shadowy threat of Akatsuki to drive the sensei to act on his feelings. Their world was changing quickly, Konoha's peace grew more and more tenuous, war threatened to break out at any moment. If he didn't move now, didn't let Anko know how much she meant to him, then he may never have another chance.

But rather than quibble over his bravery, or stupidity, he asked, "And what rumors would those be?"

The kunoichi tapped her chin, pretending to think it over. "Oh, I don't know- the rumor about my blood fetish, for instance. Or about the things I do with snakes. Or the one about me being a spy for Sound." Her voice tainted with bitterness as she spoke of the last rumor, and Anko reached for her water.

Impulsively, Iruka caught her hand before she touched the glass. Anko's eyes widened in surprise as he drew her arm closer and considered the scar on the back of her left hand. His dark eyes examined the thin line of puckered tissue that marked the entry wound of a kunai blade. Turning her hand around, he saw a similar scar marring her palm where the kunai had exited.

"The only rumor that really scares me," Iruka admitted softly, "Is that one about you rushing into the Forest of Death on your own, and attempting a suicide-murder technique against Orochimaru."

His thumb traced gently along the scar on her palm. "Don't sacrifice yourself for him, Anko."

Angrily, she tried to pull away, but Iruka's fingers tightened over hers, refusing to let go.

"Where the _hell_ do you get off telling me something like that?" she hissed. "It's my duty to stop him, whatever the cost."

"It's _Konoha's _duty, not just your own," he replied sharply, "Why are you in such a hurry to throw your life away?" His voice softened, "You're worth so much more than that."

She opened her mouth then closed it, momentarily rendered speechless. Recovering herself, she pulled her hand away more forcefully, and Iruka relinquished his hold with a sigh.

That certainly could have gone better.


	3. Meet the Kids

"Bringing up Orochimaru? You must have a death wish, sensei," Kakashi shook his head in disbelief.

"And _that's_ the problem," Iruka sighed. He caught the jounin's worried glance and waved his hands in protest. "No, no, not the death wish part! It's just the fact that everyone's afraid to even mention that man's name in front of her. Anko...she's got all this pain, this burden that she won't let anyone touch, and she's suffocating under it. I just... wanted to help."

The jounin smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "As admirable as that may be, first dates and therapy sessions just don't mix. Next time, I suggest restraining your burden-lifting impulses until maybe the third one."

"It was stupid, I know," the sensei admitted. "It's just that, when I feel strongly about something, it's like the filter between my brain and my mouth shuts off."

Kakashi opened his mouth to retort, and the sensei shot him a warning glare.

"Uh...no comment," the jounin diplomatically replied.

"Good."

With that, Iruka went to check on the bloodstained clothing being soaked in pre-treatment solution in his kitchen sink. He frowned as he inspected the uniform shirt. "Sorry, Kakashi, but these stains are never going to come off. Should I trash it?"

"Let me see," the jounin entered the kitchen as Iruka allowed the dark pink water to drain from the sink. "No, it's fine. Just give it another soak in the pre-treatment solution for now. I've got ANBU-grade detergent at home. That should take care of it."

"Really? It'd be nice if the ANBU would share that stuff with Academy sensei," Iruka commented wryly. "You won't believe the kind of messes kids can create."

"Two word for you. _Team Seven._"

"At least you _only_ have Team Seven," the chunin pointed out, already refilling the sink with clean water. "But if you want to know about kids and their messes, wait 'til you hear what happened next…"

* * *

"How's it going out there?" Udon sniffed, his allergies aggravated by the plants that kept them hidden.

"Not so good," Konohamaru reported. "Sensei tried some mushy stuff. He was holding his girlfriend's hand, but she pulled away twice and now it kinda looks like she might punch him."

"Well why didn't he let go the _first _time?" Moegi huffed. "Honestly, boys can be so stupid sometimes."

"Wait, wait, something's happening," Konohamaru exclaimed.

"What is it?"

The boy stared into the binoculars for a while, observing the couple across the restaurant. Finally he sighed. "Never mind. Nothing's happening. He's just talking."

"But is she still angry?" Moegi pressed.

Konohamaru frowned. "I can't tell. She's not really looking at him, just staring down at her lap or something."

"Maybe she's bored," Udon pointed out. "Sensei does get carried away with lectures."

"He's messing up again," Moegi announced nervously. "He's supposed to let _her_ talk. Girls like it when guys listen to them."

"Well, maybe she _likes_ listening to him," Konohamaru countered, feeling compelled to defend his sensei.

"Pfft. Girls don't want to hear boys talk about themselves," the young kunoichi replied. She crawled over to another plant, moving closer to the conversing couple. "Come on. If we don't help him out, sensei will _never _get a second date."

* * *

"Anko, you have nothing to atone for. What that man did is _not your fault._" Iruka looked at her imploringly, willing her to understand. "And, yes, I _have _heard the rumors that he left you in the village as a spy. I don't believe it for a second. The Will of Fire runs strongly in you. Stronger than a Cursed Seal. You're one of us- a citizen and ninja of the Hidden Leaf."

Anko didn't speak, didn't even look at him. The air between them grew increasingly uncomfortable, and Iruka was about to apologize for bringing up such a sensitive issue when a clamor arose straight ahead of him.

"_Hey!_ You kids aren't allowed back there!_" _A chef's voice barked, pointing at a row of potted plants by the kitchen doorway.

"Uh-oh…" Udon sniffled.

"We're caught!" Moegi hissed.

One of the waiters stomped over. "You hooligans are trespassing. I oughta report you to the authorities."

The three children in question exchanged nervous glances.

"Evasive manuevers!" Konohamaru exclaimed. The trio broke cover and ran for freedom.

"_Stop right there!"_ Another waiter yelled. The man grabbed Moegi's arm, and Konohamaru unleashed a war cry, snagging a long bread knife off a nearby cart and brandishing it at his opponent.

A vein throbbed in Iruka's temple as he rose to his feet and roared, "_Konohamaru! What did I tell you about kitchen knives?_"

"But this isn't a normal situation," the boy squawked, flailing his arms. The waiter jumped back to avoid him, releasing Moegi in the process.

"What in the world...?" a bewildered Anko turned to take in the scene, when the waitress behind her yelped and jumped aside to avoid a collision with the fugitive preteens. A soup bowl on her tray rocked disastrously, upending itself all over the kunoichi's trench coat.

"Why you little…" Anko snarled and snatched up the snot-nosed brat responsible. Hot soup noisily dripped from her trench coat to the floor. "I'm going to skin you alive!"

Iruka nimbly seized the other boy by his long blue scarf, and apprehended the girl by the back of her vest.

"Konohamaru, Moegi, Udon," the chunin intoned gravely. "I'm very disappointed in you."

* * *

The smell of weapon oil pervaded Iruka's kitchen while he related the restaurant incident. Kakashi's eye crinkled in mirth as he laughed, having to pause from his cleaning of the kunai blade. "Ah, so she met the kids."

"I'm glad you find this so amusing," Iruka grumbled, striking the iron a bit more forcefully against the blade he was sharpening.

"Sorry, sorry," Kakashi replied, failing to sound at all sincere amidst the snickering. "But you have to admit, it _is _rather funny."

"Well _I_ sure wasn't laughing when they kicked us out of the restaurant." Iruka set the newly sharpened kunai on the table, and grabbed another one of Kakashi's used weapons from the pile. "Not only was it humiliating, but I'll never have a chance with Anko again."

"Don't be so dramatic," the jounin admonished, inspecting the metal to make sure it was gleaming, before grabbing a sharpening tool of his own. "Just give her time to cool off. The situation still sounds salvageable to me."

"Oh, but it gets worse."

"You mean there's more?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Iruka frowned. "After dissuading her from killing the children, I insisted on taking her coat to the cleaners. And I was hoping to at least buy her some dango by way of apology…"

* * *

"I'll be covering the bill," Iruka informed the clerk.

Anko slid out of her oversized coat and handed it to the girl at the counter, revealing her woven body armor. It hugged her every curve like a second skin- a fact that was all too obvious without the bulky outerwear. Iruka didn't realize he'd been staring until the kunoichi turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

"See something you like?" she smirked.

"No!" Iruka denied too hastily, before realizing how that sounded. "I mean, yes. I-I mean…" Just great. And with the heat radiating off his face, he just _knew_ he was flushing red as a tomato.

Anko laughed. "So are we getting dango or what?"

"Of course," Iruka agreed in relief. At least she was still willing to spend time with him. Now if he could just refrain from bringing up emotionally scarring subjects, and if no more well-meaning students showed up, maybe this night wouldn't be a _complete _disaster.

They were nearing the dango shop when a low whistle caught their attention.

Anko glared forward at the man responsible, a shaggy-haired blonde lingering at the entrance of a bar. He smirked back at her, responding to her withering look with a wink.

Iruka scowled, drawing closer to Anko's side in an unconsciously protective gesture when the man openly leered. Something about the lecher seemed familiar, and Iruka felt sure he had seen him somewhere before. Probably one of the many nin to whom he'd handed out assignments in the mission room.

The stranger's eyes raked licentiously over Anko's form and he whistled again. "I'd like a piece of _that_."

"_Yeah_?" Anko raged loudly, baring her fist and stalking toward the offender. "_I'll _give_ you a piece of this that you won't forget, you pervert!_"

Just when she got within striking range of the infuriating man, Iruka placed his own hand on Anko's wrist. "Let's go. He's not worth your time." Tugging gently on the kunoichi's arm, he tersely urged her to drop the argument.

He was mildly surprised when Anko actually listened and turned away. Yes, the stranger was infuriating, and the idea of beating some manners into him was very enticing, but they were mature adults. Getting caught up in useless fights over some offensive remarks was…

"Heh, for a chunin, you sure know how to keep a dumb broad in line," the blond sneered. "Tell me- how much you payin' for a night with this one?"

Something snapped. Carefully restrained temper flared into searing rage. In a single fluid motion, Iruka spun on his heel, allowing the momentum to power the punch aimed at the man's face. His fist connected with a resounding crack.

The man expelled a stream of curses as vivid as the bright red blood now flowing from his nose.

Even through his haze of rage, the chunin noticed two things. First, although Iruka had connected a solid punch, his opponent hadn't staggered or given ground. Secondly, this man looked _a lot_ more familiar with blood staining his face.

"Fragging chunin- you're gonna regret this." The blond looked up at him with a viscous scowl, and the pieces finally slid into place.

* * *

"Mujihi?" The jounin looked up sharply from the blade he was oiling. "Iruka, you started a fist fight with the _Captain of the Hunter Ninja_?"

Iruka frowned, sparks flying from the blade he was sharpening. "I told you what he said. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Hm…I noticed you looked a little roughed up when I saw you on the roof." Kakashi evaluated him with a critical eye. He came to his conclusion with a genial smile. "But not too bad for someone who faced off with a Hunter Nin."

"Ah, thanks," Iruka blushed, scratching the back of neck awkwardly. "I held up pretty well in the fist fight. Then he started on the ninjutsu. Anko interfered before things got too out of hand. And once she broke up the fight, she was kind enough to drop me off at the hospital. We never did get dango."

"The _hospital_? You were hurt badly, then? I don't smell blood."

"I'm fine. And all the bleeding was internal," Iruka shrugged. "Mujihi's got this nasty spleen-rupturing jutsu, you see."

"Ah."

"Anyway, it wasn't too serious. The medics were actually able to save my spleen," the chunin reported. His expression grew sullen as he added, "But any chance I ever had with Anko is damaged beyond repair."

Iruka trailed off into melancholy silence, downcast eyes and defeated posture reflecting the way he'd looked when Kakashi found him on the rooftop earlier. The jounin cast about for something, anything, helpful to say.

"Hey…that wasn't _so_ bad," he began, injecting cheer into his voice, "Anko would probably still-"

"Don't lie to make me feel better, Kakashi," Iruka interrupted sternly.

Kakashi sighed and tried again, grasping for an honest comment that was reasonably optimistic. "At least there's plenty of _other_ women in this village, ne?"

* * *

_Note: Fragging- the act of attacking a superior officer in one's chain of command with the intent to kill that officer._


	4. Eye of the Beholder

Kakashi declined Iruka's polite offer to let him spend the night, considering there was barely a handful of hours left until morning. Besides, it was obvious that the man needed some time to himself after the series of misfortunes that made up his date.

The jounin had nearly made it home when he caught sight of Anko briskly lunging across the rooftops several yards away. She moved like a woman on a mission, and Kakashi felt vaguely uneasy about the fact that it was in the general direction of Iruka's building.

With one last wistful gaze at his own apartment building, the jounin doubled back to intercept. The least he could do was put in a good word for the man before Anko tore into him, if that happened to be her intention.

Kakashi landing lightly in front of her, and the kunoichi's eyebrows arched in surprise.

"Anko," he nodded slightly in greeting.

"Out of my way, Kakashi," she curtly demanded, "There's someone I need to assassinate."

Anko impatiently moved to step around him, but Kakashi barred her path again and smiled in feigned innocence. "Rushing into an assassination without back-up? Maybe I should go with you. Who's the target?"

She considered him suspiciously. "Let me guess, they assigned you to watch me and make sure I don't attack him."

"I wasn't _assigned_ to do anything," Kakashi replied, "But I don't see why you'd want to attack Iruka, after you went to the trouble of dropping him at the hospital."

"What are you _talking _about? I'm not after Iruka."

"Then who...?"

"Mujihi," Anko growled, baring her teeth as she did so and strongly reminding Kakashi of the way Naruto commonly spat out Sasuke's name.

"Ah…that might be a problem. He's technically a comrade," Kakashi pointed out reasonably. "And he didn't make Hunter Nin Captain for his looks, you know."

"I don't care," she said, brushing aside those mundane details. "He's going to pay for ruining my date."

"I heard about the fight."

"Of course you did. I'm sure the whole village knows it by now." The kunoichi folded her arms in annoyance, but didn't seem the least bit surprised. This was a ninja village, after all. "In that case, it might interest you to know that Mujihi's got away with just a slap on the wrist because of some half-assed self defense argument- _'Iruka punched me first, boo-hoo,'_" She mocked snidely. "What a jackass. Because of him, we missed out on dango. Everything was going great until he came along and-"

"It _was_?" Kakashi interrupted incredulously.

"Was what?"

"Going great. The date, I mean."

"Well, sure," she retorted crossly, planting her hands on her hips, "Why wouldn't it be? You think I can't manage myself on a date? Is that it?"

"No, no," Kakashi assured, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. "It's just that…" He trailed off, not wanting to admit that he'd spoken to the chunin.

"Just _what_? I'm not good enough for Iruka? Not feminine enough?" Anko challenged, seizing the front of the Copy Nin's shirt. "Because I didn't dress up? Or was too distracted to dodge some lousy bowl of soup? Because I threatened to kill his snotty brats? Or…"

Both her words and anger faltered. She released Kakashi's collar, dropping her hand down to her side and looking away. "Eh, who am I kidding?" With an exasperated exhale, she sat on the roof ledge. "A kunoichi like me? I never stood a chance."

Kakashi blinked at her, trying to acclimate to her sudden swing from murderous to melancholy. Finally his eye curved as he smiled. "Anko, you have a better chance than you seem to think."

The woman scoffed, glumly propping her chin on her hand as she stared out over the village. "What would _you_ know?"

"I'll tell you what I know," the Copy Nin settled onto the ledge beside her, "But first I need to hear your version of what happened."

That caught her interest. "Wait…are you saying I might not have ruined it?" she probed skeptically.

"I'll know if you tell me what happened," Kakashi prompted again.

The shinobi waited quietly, watching her face reflect her internal debate until she finally relented with a roll of her eyes. "Fine…"

* * *

_He's here!_ Anko, sensing the familiar chakra signature, abandoned the book that had failed to distract her all evening. She threw open the door and winced at the sound of Iruka's sharp inhale as he jumped backwards to avoid getting hit.

_Give the man a concussion-_ _that'd make a _great _impression_. Glancing up at Iruka, Anko quickly apologized.

At least- she opened her mouth to apologize. Somehow, when her eyes landed on the chunin, the words "What are you _wearing?_" tumbled out instead.

Her gaze trailed appraisingly over Iruka's form. He looked good in civvies. The sleeves of his silk dress shirt were folded according to battle dress uniform standards, exposing nicely toned forearms. As usual, Iruka was mostly covered up, but the two open buttons at the top of that burgundy shirt displayed a tantalizing triangle of tanned skin.

He might have answered, but Anko couldn't be sure, too distracted by his appearance and the thought that she really shouldn't have rejected Yugao's suggestion to dress up tonight.

She couldn't dwell long on her regret, for a clump of flowers was suddenly thrust into her line of vision. "What's that?"

"They're…daisies."

"I know that." She was perfectly capable of identifying common flower species. "I mean- what do you expect me to _do _with them?"

Iruka's eyes widened slightly, face clearly broadcasting the fact that he was surprised by the question. "Well, you're supposed to put them in a vase…to… look at…" He explained slowly, suggesting that the answer was supposed to be obvious.

Look at them? "Okaaay…" Anko still didn't see the point, but she grabbed them up anyway and went off to do as Iruka suggested.

Unfortunately, finding a container to hold flowers proved to be more difficult than expected. Anko was fairly certain she didn't own a vase. The saké bottle was full. And she couldn't find a pitcher, though she was positive she'd seen one around just yesterday.

She was wasting her date time with Iruka. There had to be _something _that – "Aha!"

Grabbing the small wastebasket by her nightstand, Anko emptied its contents into the large kitchen trash bin. She then filled the smaller vessel with water and daisies. Satisfied with her improvised trashcan vase, the kunoichi stepped back to look at the flower clump.

When was the last time anyone had gotten her flowers? _Had_ anyone ever gotten her flowers? Somehow she couldn't quite remember. It's not like there was much point to them. Or was there? She'd have to check with Inoichi later, as she was sure she'd heard him babbling on about messages in plants.

Although, Anko reluctantly conceded as she fingered the silky petals, they were…nice, kind of. They made the room looked brighter, though of course the flowers weren't physically glowing. In spite of how inconsequential she considered them, Anko could not resist a smile. Amazing, that something so simple could lift her mood.

Iruka was very much like that, she realized. He wasn't a man noted for great feats, and yet his influence was compelling. Thinking of him made her smile, and she couldn't quite explain why.

She also couldn't explain why a straitlaced guy like him would ask her out, considering her reputation. Maybe she'd ask him about it later.

And so, as nice as it was staring at flowers, Anko decided she'd much rather go back to staring at Iruka.

He asked about the flowers when she stepped out of the apartment, probably wondering what had taken her so long.

Anko grinned and scratched that back of her neck sheepishly. "Yeah… about that. I couldn't find a pitcher, so I just tossed them in the trash can. You don't mind, do you?"

* * *

She had never expected Iruka to bring up her old sensei during dinner. True, _she_ had been the one to dredge up the topic of rumors, but still- Orochimaru was a taboo that few would broach in her presence. Even fewer would dare to hold her hand while doing it either. The _nerve _of that man! Anko would have punched him for it too, except the way he traced her scar while telling her she was worth something made her stomach do flip flops and rendered her motionless.

Distinctly unsettled, the kunoichi finally succeeded in pushing him away, and in doing so expected him to shirk back in fear of her wrath. That's just the way Anko was – she intimidated people.

Iruka, however, had a lot more backbone than she'd given him credit for. Undaunted by her flashes of anger, he seemed all the more determined to prod at the painful, infected parts of her psyche. It hurt, yet she let him talk. Eventually, her rage ebbed and she let herself listen too.

"Anko, you have nothing to atone for. What that man did is _not your fault._" Iruka looked at her imploringly, willing her to understand. "And, yes, I _have _heard the rumors that he left you in the village as a spy. I don't believe it for a second. The Will of Fire runs strongly in you. Stronger than a Cursed Seal. You're one of us- a citizen and ninja of the Hidden Leaf."

He paused there, and Anko let his words sink into her, shocked by how much she'd needed to hear them, by how much she'd thirsted for something as simple as acceptance. Overwhelmed, she struggled to find the words to speak, when a clamor erupted behind her.

Someone was yelling about kids, and Iruka abruptly stood up and roared the name of the Sandaime's grandson, and something about kitchen knives.

"What in the world…?" Anko began to turn around. Still a bit dazed from the emotionally charged conversation, she wasn't quick enough to dodge when the waitress behind her dropped a soup bowl.

The shock of hot soup pulled her out of her reverie in a hurry. Her temper flared with a vengeance. She was a _jounin._ She should _never _be taken off-guard. "Why you little…" Anko snarled and snatched up the snot-nosed brat who'd bumped the waitress. "I'm going to skin you alive!"

Iruka nimbly seized another boy by his long blue scarf, and apprehended a girl by the back of her vest.

"Konohamaru, Moegi, Udon," the chunin intoned gravely. "I'm very disappointed in you."

Their sensei's disapproval cowed them more than Anko's threat. Their eyes became downcast as they shuffled uncomfortably on their feet. "But we were only trying to help," Moegi pouted.

"Oh really?" Iruka looked pointedly at Anko's drenched attire before facing the trio. "Good job."

"But, sensei…"

"No excuses. I don't know _how _you got it in your head that following me was a good idea," Iruka scolded his increasingly shamefaced students. "And honestly now- _getting caught by the kitchen_ _staff_? Did I teach you nothing about stealth and awareness of your surroundings?"

"We're sorry, sensei," Konohamaru muttered.

"It won't happen again," Udon sniffed pitifully.

"Excuse me!" The restaurant owner stalked toward the couple. "Are these delinquents _yours_?"

"_No!"_ Anko declared emphatically, at the same moment Iruka automatically replied "Yes."

* * *

They may have gotten kicked out of the restaurant, but things were looking up- Iruka overlooked the fact that she tried to murder "his" delinquents, and offered to go out for dango once they dropped her coat at the cleaners.

The chunin insisted on covering the cleaning bill. Most likely a gesture of pity for how pathetic she made herself look. What kind of ninja couldn't avoid a falling bowl of soup?

She removed her coat, handed it over to the clerk before turning back to Iruka. A slow grin bloomed over her face when she noticed he was staring at her- and it certainly _wasn't_ pity she saw in his eyes. It bolstered her confidence to know that, however he'd surprised her tonight, men will be men. And Anko knew how to handle men.

"See something you like?" She smirked seductively, turning up the feminine charm. He'd be eating out of her hand in no time.

Iruka's eyes went wide, and his face blazed flaming red in embarrassment. "No!" he denied far too vehemently. It might have stung her pride, except that his eyes widened even further and he immediately tried to backtrack. "I mean, yes. I-I mean…" He floundered, complete opposite of the assertive, self-assured talker he'd been at the restaurant.

Anko shook her head, a genuinely mirthful laugh escaping her lips. This guy was really something else- unflinchingly deliberating on betrayal and rumors and cursed seals, then tripping over his tongue when invited to flirt. "So are we getting dango or what?"

"Of course." He smiled endearingly at the merciful change of subject.

* * *

A low whistle pierced through the air on their way to the dango shop. Anko recognized the timbre of that sound and glared up immediately. Smirking in that smug manner of his, Mujihi tossed his shaggy blond hair and winked at her.

Kami, he was so _infuriating. _The man knew he could snag most any woman he wanted with his rakish looks and inhuman ninja prowess. He'd made it a point to antagonize Anko after she rejected him one too many times.

Mujihi heatedly raked his eyes over her body and whistled again, purposely provoking her. "I'd like a piece of _that_," he called out crudely.

That's it! She didn't care if he was Captain of the Hunter Ninja, or the Hokage himself. "_I'll _give _you a piece of this that you won't forget, you pervert!_" she growled, ready to bash his face in once and for all.

She was so close to punching him too, when a warm hand clasp over her wrist. "Let's go. He's not worth your time," her date tersely insisted. Of course, straitlaced Iruka would never get into a brawl in the middle of the street, she thought irritably.

But he _was_ right. Ignoring Mujihi was the mature thing to do. The man loved to get a rise out of her, and reacting only gratified him. This was confirmed when she felt an angry spike of Mujihi's chakra while she turned away.

"Heh, for a chunin, you sure know how to keep a dumb broad in line," the blond sneered, this time directing his crude remarks towards Iruka. "Tell me- how much you payin' for a night with this one?"

A flare of chakra exploded from the sensei, and in a ferocious burst of motion his fist slammed into Mujihi's face.

* * *

Kakashi had never seen Anko _blush_ before. While he had remained silent through the bulk of the narrative, he couldn't resist pointing that out to her. She rewarded his indiscretion with a harsh elbow to the ribs.

"Well it was pretty impressive," she snapped defensively. "I mean, he took on a freaking _Hunter_ _Ninja_."

"But…he lost…" Kakashi pointed out tentatively.

"_So?"_ she bristled, as though it were entirely beside the point.

"Never mind," the shinobi retracted.

"Besides he didn't exactly _lose_. I interfered when the ninjutsu got started. Who's to say what would have happened in the end?" Anko sighed. "Iruka tends to be full of surprises."

"Yeah, he could have lost his spleen _and _his kidney," Kakashi teased.

"Keep talking, and you'll lose your tongue."

The Copy Ninja smiled at the threat. She'd fallen for him pretty badly. "So tell me, Anko, during this whole episode, did you bother telling Iruka that you enjoyed his company?"

The kunoichi snorted, "Oh yeah, _sure_. What was I supposed to say? 'Hey Iruka- great date. Getting kicked out of restaurants, missing out on dango, dropping you off at the hospital...Let's do it again some time.'" She leaned back, resting her weight on her elbows as she stared up at the stars. "I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid. He asked me out on the first date. If he wanted a second, he would have said something. Or at least kissed me."

"Would he?" Kakashi pressed, trying to lead her to see underneath the underneath- that Iruka was just as insecure about the date as she. "You really can't see _any_ reason why he might have held back?"

"No," Anko affirmed decidedly. "He didn't hold back about his feelings at the restaurant. So he must have realized it was all a mistake after…after…" she faltered. "_Unless_…"

"Unless...?"

The kunoichi's eyes lit up as she quickly straightened. "Of course! It's so _obvious!_"

Kakashi smiled and nodded for her to continue.

"He didn't kiss me because he was in such excruciating pain!" Anko concluded triumphantly.

"Er…that's not quite…"

But the kunoichi was no longer listening, "Organ damage, hydrostatic shock, internal bleeding," she clasped her hands delightedly, "I _didn't_ scare him away! He was just too damaged to speak!"

"Actually…"

"Thank you Kakashi!" She abruptly pulled him into a tight hug.

His body went rigid, until she finally released him long enough to grab his wrist and pull him along. "Come on, I'll need your help."

"Hey, where are we going? You're not still after Mujihi?" Kakashi ran alongside her, if only because he wasn't too keen on being dragged. "You know, if he's got a history of harassing you, you should file a report and-"

"Would you forget Mujihi, already? There's more important business to take care of." Anko leapt onto the adjacent rooftop, still pulling along the bewildered, unwilling Copy Ninja. "We've got to find a flower clump for Iruka to look at!"


	5. A Weed by Any Other Name

Last chapter! You may be interested to know that part of Iruka's date was inspired by a sketch on DeviantArt by BesideQuietWaters. The scene in the picture doesn't match the one in my story exactly (or at all), but it inspired the concept. To see it, just copy the link below, and replace the "(dot)" with an actual dot "."

besidequietwaters(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/here-for-you-color-157761423

And once you're done here, you may want to check out Taryn Streambattle's fics. You'll find a link to her profile in my "Favorite Authors" section. I love her stories. For instance, after reading "A Mere Pawn," I've never looked at Sakumo's suicide in quite the same way again...

* * *

Iruka dutifully performed his morning katas. Every twinge of his sore muscles reminded him of last night's fight, which in turn reminded him of how disastrously the date had gone. Ignoring the ache, he grit his teeth and pushed himself through his exercises. However his thoughts lingered on Anko.

The most rational thing to do would be to cut his losses and give up on her. It was true, there _were_ other women in this village. And most of them _liked_ flowers.

Yet Iruka wasn't willing to give up- even despite all that he said last night about not standing a chance (or perhaps even because of it, stubborn man that he was). Everything good was worth fighting for, right? He just needed a strategy.

The sensei slid into a low stance, then lunged up, swinging his arm into the air for an uppercut. Extending his right arm caused the muscled on that side to seize up, and he hissed while clutching his ribs. Okay, moving too fast was not a good idea right now.

_A tactical retreat_, he decided, as he resumed his katas in a slower, more deliberate fashion. He would give Anko time to cool off, as Kakashi had suggested, before attempting a second, more subtle, strike.

The sensei completed his exercise just as the sun began to peek over the horizon. Ready for his morning tea, he entered the kitchen and set a pot of water to boil. Finally, he turned to glance out the window, and was surprised to find a large, scraggly clump of plants dangling in front of the pane.

"What the…" The sensei slowly approached the glass, wary of his students' tricks. After cautious investigation, he deemed it safe to open the window and examine the anomaly up close.

Ragweed, bundled together with a sheet of paper and secured with a length of chakra wire.

The prickly clump of weeds dangled on another line of wire, which in turn was attached to a shuriken embedded above his window frame. The sensei examined the arrangement suspiciously. Tentatively, he withdrew his kunai and prodded the bundle. He tested the wire in a similar manner, ready to react at the sign of an activating trap. Nothing.

At long last, he retrieved the weed, laying it on his counter and unwrapping the sheet of paper. A note was written inside, and the paperwork ninja smiled, immediately recognizing the large, loping scrawl.

_You still owe me dango!  
__Meet me at the Dumpling Shop at 1800 hours.  
__Or else.  
__~ Anko  
__P.S. The stupid flower shop was closed._

Iruka chuckled, rereading the note a third and fourth time before turning his attention back to what he supposed must be his "bouquet." The wild ragweed _was _flowering, as evidenced by its prickly yellow protrusions.

Grabbing a tall, wide-mouthed jar from his cabinet, he filled it with water and placed the unpleasantly coarse plants inside. Ragweed pollen was extremely allergenic, the sensei recalled, and a prime cause of hay fever. How fortunate, then, that Iruka didn't suffer from allergies. However, when Kakashi came over next, he'd be sure to stow it away in his room. The poor man had such a sensitive nose, and was terribly allergic to certain types of pollen.

The stove flame hissed as the forgotten pot of boiling water bubbled over the edge. Iruka quickly turned it off, chiding himself for being so distracted. Still, as he wiped down the spill, he couldn't help going back over the note in his mind, wondering if this meant that Anko wasn't as put off as he thought. Or it could just mean that she really wanted that promised dango.

Glancing back at the plant he wondered…do ragweed flowers have a meaning?

Iruka fully expected Anko to discover his flowers had a message in them. She may not be the most feminine woman in Konoha, but she was certainly a shrewd kunoichi. It was really only a matter of time until she realized.

Could this, then, be her response?

With a hint of trepidation, the sensei made his way to the bookshelves lining his living room. His fingers skimmed over the spines until they rested on his newest addition- a botanical encyclopedia, courtesy of Yamanaka Ino. The large leather bound volume provided valuable insight into identifying species of plants and their uses. However, it also had an extensive section on the language of flowers. Ino had gifted it to him the same day he bought the daises. Now that Iruka was dating, she claimed, he needed to know these kind of things.

"Ragweed…ragweed…" Iruka murmured to himself, taking a seat on the sofa and flipping pages until he lighted on the entry. What sort of message could such a prickly, disagreeable plant have?

_Ragweed_ – See _Ambrosia_

With a sigh, he flipped a few pages back to the "A" section. Finally, the sensei found and read the appropriate entry. His eyebrows furrowed uncertainly. Turning back to "Ragweed," he double-checked the technical name, and then returned to "Ambrosia," rereading it.

Slowly, the creases in his brow smoothed out and a grin overtook his features. The chunin laughed wholeheartedly. The ache in his muscles miraculously gone, Iruka hurried to shower and get ready for the day. Six o'clock would not come soon enough.

The Encyclopedia Botanica lay abandoned on the sofa cushions, pages open to "Language of Flowers: A-C." There, between _Amaryllis_ (Pride) and _Anemone_ (Refusal), Anko's message was disclosed.

_Ambrosia_ – Love is reciprocated.

* * *

Note: The flower meanings used in this fic are legit. I was utterly delighted to discover that the "flower" representing returned affection was actually a nasty weed ("That's _perfect_!" I exclaimed aloud, to no one in particular). Not sure what genius decided this, but it worked well for my purposes.


End file.
